It’s the deep blue of midnight, and all the trees laid bare. Only a few solitary stars still spangle while the information war rages. The earth listens in silence. Barely a cricket dares chirp against the monolithic sky.
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As long as there are conflicts of interest, the truth suffers, and so the night continues to darken. Somewhere there’s the sound of a solitary wail, a protest half forgotten between a whimper and a sigh.
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Wild things are most at home in the night. Furtive plots will be carried out by cover of darkness, but as long as a single star still burns, there is still light and the promise of a better day.
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